Happy New Year
by peacock-knees
Summary: John and Sherlock are celebrating a quiet night in for New Years. Greg and Mycroft almost forget it's New Year's Eve! (Just a little fic that came to mind whilst I was waiting for 2012 to end and 2013 to begin! Enjoy!) -originally posted on Ao3-
1. Chapter 1

**11:00pm**

Sherlock was sat in his arm chair glowering at the fire. John was sat in the chair opposite reading a book, the telly had been switched off earlier because John was tired of his constant commentary.  
'Can't we watch _anything _without you giving your opinion?!'  
'It's not my fault they're all idiots John.'

Maybe one day I'll be able to watch TV in my own flat, he thought. Although to be really honest he didn't even mind that much, sometimes it was nice just to sit in companionable silence with Sherlock, they weren't working a case at the moment, although yesterday Lestrade had dropped off a few case files from some cold cases that he thought Sherlock might be interested in. It was this that Sherlock was currently thinking over, and periodically complaining about - as 'the police at the time were idiots' and hadn't recorded anything useful from the scene. Apparently.

'John, you haven't turned a page in your book for almost 10 minutes ,even you don't read that slowly.'  
'I know, I'm just enjoying this.' He waved a hand between them.  
'This?'  
'You know, us, New Year, the crackle of the fire - sentiment.'  
'Oh…'

**11:30pm**

John had red five more pages. Although the last one he had read 5 times and not absorbed it, he kept glancing up at Sherlock who seemed to be studying him, he didn't often try and deduce anything from John, he didn't need to, but currently he was staring intently at him, eyes flitting up and down, searching for information. Well, he wasn't getting any reading done, he might as well make tea. He got up and moved into the kitchen, Sherlock's eyes followed him up but then came back down to rest on the hearth.

As he came back in with the tea John glanced at the clock on the mantel, 11:37.  
'Could I have the TV back on now Sherlock? I'd like to watch the Hootenanny.'  
'I never said you couldn't have it on John.'  
'Okay, let me re-phrase that, I want to watch the Television, _without _ your commentary, thank you.'  
'Fine, but Jools Holland is dull'  
'It's a tradition'  
'Traditions are boring'  
'Shut Up and drink your tea.'

**11:59pm**

John had been quite enjoying the music on the TV and was pleasantly surprised at Sherlock, who was sitting quite still on his chair and making no snide remarks whatsoever. John popped to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of New Years Champaign he'd bought. He got back to the telly as the countdown started.

'10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1.. HAPPY NEW YEARS!

'Happy New Year Sherlock, would you like a glass of bubbly?'  
Sherlock stayed silent, that was unusual, he seemed to be avoiding John's gaze now. Well fine, if he was going to be like that. John poured himself a glass of Champaign and set the bottle down on the table. He took a sip and then looked at Sherlock.  
'Got any New Year's resolutions? I reckon I've got mine'~  
'No. New Year's resolutions are stupid.'  
'Mine are 1. Go to the gym, so I'm fitter for running around after you, 2. Post on my blog again, I haven't posted any of our last 4 cases, it's getting less views every day, and 3. Make sure you eat at least once a day.'

Sherlock seemed to consider these for a second. Oh how wonderful John was, he was always a caretaking type, he was a doctor , but how true to himself that all of his New Year's resolutions were not about himself, but were in fact for Sherlock. All of these New Years convention are ridiculous, he thought to himself, as the clock struck midnight people were hugging and kissing, John was drinking Champaign and people were making New Year's resolutions. New Year comes second to Christmas in 'Annoying celebrations that everyone take part in.' Oh, but for John, he supposed he must.

'Okay, I've got one, one New Year's resolution just for you, John. I am going to do one nice thing for you every day. Starting now.'  
'Oh Sherlock, you don't have to do that! Don't be ridiculo—'

Sherlock swept across the small space between their chairs and pressed a kiss to John's lips. It was small and chaste and over in a second.

'Happy New Year John.'

Sherlock smiled and stalked off towards his bedroom. John just sat there for a moment, _what?! _He licked his lips. Sherlock had just kissed him, on the lips, and then just left.

'Sherlock?' he tried to be demanding but as his voice came out as barely a whisper it was not very effective.

'Goodnight John.'


	2. Chapter 2

**11:00pm**

Mycroft was stuck in the office on a phone call that was dragging on and on. Why must politicians be so damn argumentative, he thought for the thousandth time that day. He had called Greg a few hours earlier to apologise for being late and not to stay up, only to find that the detective was also still stuck behind a desk, swamped in paper work.

Fortunately this dynamic worked for them, the fact that they were both very devoted to their work just meant that they understood each other better, and there were no rows about 'You're never home for dinner' and more compromises like 'Would you like to do brunch, because I am out of meetings from 11 to 12'. Today was no exception and they had met for a hurried lunch, but Mycroft didn't mind, he knew that when he returned there would be someone waiting for him, and that was good enough. Oh no, look at how soppy I've gotten, he said out loud to himself.

**11:30pm**

Greg was so tired, he'd been on the job since 7am and it was really taking its toll, not to mention the fact that he had had to pop to Sherlock's this afternoon, having been persuaded by John, to drop off some cold case files. He had then rushed back to the office and continued with the paper work. He began to nod off and then Sally came into his office.

'Sir, I'm going home, it's New Year's Eve and I don't wanna be here, see you tomorrow, alright'  
'Right okay, bye.'

He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock, blimey, it was almost 11:40 on New Year's Eve, he hadn't even realised, was that really what his life was coming to now?! He pushed the paperwork away from him and stood up. _I'm not staying here all night. _He grabbed his phone and jacket and left the room, flicking off the light as he left. On the way home he called Mycroft, no answer, _damn._

**11:59pm**

Mycroft stepped out of the car and sighed, home at last. He unlocked the door to the flat and walked in, all the lights were off, he guessed Greg must still be at the office. Ah well. He sat down in his favourite arm chair and began to wait, picking up his book from the coffee table.

Greg pulled his key from his pocket and unlocked the door, the hall light was on, that meant Mycroft was home, good. He dropped his coat in the hall and rushed into the living room.  
'Myc'  
'Greg, finally managed to escape the office then!'  
'I've been ringing yo— Oh forget it, Happy New Year!' He held out a bottle of Champaign.  
'You know, we've got Champaign in the fridge?'  
'Oh shut up.'

Putting the Champaign down on the side Greg walked over and pulled Mycroft up into a kiss, Mycroft pulled Greg down into his lap and then Big Ben struck midnight. They had been together for New Years after all.


End file.
